Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 491(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 491(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Beltran shook his head and closed the door again. “No. I’ve lost the habit over the years. It takes time away from my work.”
“Lucky you,” River muttered under his breath as he pressed his hand to his stomach again.
Wyatt was feeling the same hunger pangs. They hadn’t had jobs or even money in years, thanks to Brett’s indentured servitude. Since Brett’s death, they’d been largely surviving on what they could hunt in the woods. The only problem was that the local pack’s territory ran very close to Bel’s property. He and River had survived on hunting in the narrow strip of land between the two, not wanting to risk pissing off either the vampire or the pack.
But Wyatt hated to admit he’d been looking forward to something warm and cooked. Something served on a plate. Something to be enjoyed with his human tongue.
Crushing down that disappointment, Wyatt placed a hand on River’s slumped shoulder and squeezed. “It’s okay. We can hunt up something in the woods.”
River took a deep breath and gave a little nod.
“Oh! I know!” Beltran’s entire body straightened, and he gave a little bounce of excitement. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it aloft like it was the answer to all their prayers. “Those food delivery apps. My brother and his mate Ethan swear by them. Do you think they would work here?”
To Wyatt’s surprise, Beltran unlocked the phone and handed it directly to River. The younger werewolf looked up at Wyatt for a moment, his eyes wide and questioning. Yes, the vampire was more than a little eccentric, but still, he seemed harmless.
“Umm…I haven’t had a cell phone in years, but I’m pretty good at figuring out stuff like this,” River hedged, accepting the phone. “It shouldn’t be too hard to download some to your phone and check.”
“Excellent. If you can start that, I can get some drinks.” Beltran turned to a cabinet and grabbed a pair of water glasses. He held them up toward Wyatt and smiled. “Water okay? I mean, I’ve got plenty of blood to spare. But werewolves don’t drink blood, right?”
There was a new energy about him now. As if he’d come to accept that they were welcome guests in his house and they meant him no harm.
“Water is just fine. We don’t particularly care for blood,” Wyatt said.
“Unless it’s with a good rare steak,” River added, which only caused his stomach to growl again.
Beltran nodded and went about adding ice and water to the glasses, then set them on the center island around which they were gathered. “I haven’t had a steak, rare or otherwise, in…wow…it’s been quite a while. At least a century. When I had dinner with my family not long ago, Ethan was craving sushi. I’d never had that before.”
River’s head popped up, his nose wrinkling. “Was it good?”
“It was…interesting. Some of it was very good. But I do not suggest trying the wasabi.”
River’s eyes widened suddenly. “Can you eat garlic?”
“Oh, yes. I don’t know where that silly old myth came from. I love garlic. Italian food was one of the last types of food that I gave up. All those wonderful sauces and the noodles.”
“Okay, we’ve got to get one of these apps working. I’m starving now,” River said, turning his attention to the phone that had been briefly forgotten in his hand.
Wyatt reached out and picked up both of the water glasses. “Why don’t we move back to the living room, where you and Mr. Varik can comfortably search for something on the phone?”
Beltran’s head popped up, and he smiled at Wyatt. His heart gave the strangest skip at that look. Only River had ever smiled at him like that.
“Yes, that is a much smarter idea,” Beltran agreed. “But please, you must call me Bel or at least Beltran. Unless you’d prefer it if I call you Mr. Campbell.”
“No, Wyatt is fine with me, Bel,” he said gently.
Bel looked away, leading the way toward the living room, but not before Wyatt saw what looked like a faint blush paint along his cheekbones. River looked over his shoulder at Wyatt, one eyebrow raised in question, but Wyatt could only shrug. He didn’t know what to say. When they decided to approach Bel after the death of Brett, they’d both come with the hope that he was no worse than Brett and the rest of the MacPhersons.
So far, Bel was proving to be nothing like that clan or any vampire they’d ever met.
He was simply unexpected.
And that was causing the strangest tangle of emotions in his own chest. He was more accustomed to feelings of loathing, distrust, and frustration when it came to vampires. But when he looked at Bel, the most he felt was a little frustration, and even that was tainted with sympathy. The Varik wasn’t making them false promises or acting callously toward them. If anything, Wyatt was impressed with how fair and understanding Bel was attempting to be.